


Blunders

by olivemartini



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock's inner monologue, he's trying to be a good flatmate honestly, thought process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:17:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's trying to be a good roommate.<br/>Promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blunders

Sherlock is trying very hard not to mess this up.

He wasn't sure why the thought of this army doctor leaving bothers him, especially when you consider his PTSD and the constant common courtesies that must be followed and his tendency to ask redundant questions.  For as long as he could remember, Sherlock had been content with pushing people away, and for the life of him could not figure out why this man was different.  ( _Except,_ the brutally honest voice in his head muttered, _that's not exactly true is it?  You don't push people away.  It's the other way around._ )

"So?"  Sherlock growled at the empty room, perfectly aware that he had been reduced to arguing with his subconscious, but so shaken by its rather astute observation that he did not have the energy to care.  "What do I care if he leaves?"

Except, he does.  He would care if there wasn't anyone nagging him to eat, wasn't anyone listening to the shrieking of the violin (listening, but pretending not to be.  Impressed, but trying hard not to be), wasn't anyone's phone or laptop to steal.  He would care if John was another person that was suddenly shocked with the realization that Sherlock was different, was possibly dangerous, and had to be avoided at all costs.  This brief friendship (is that what this is?  He doesn't have anything to compare it to) was a lovely break from everyone's coldhearted comments and discomfort and stunned glances.  Sherlock could not help it if he was different, could not help it if the other people surrounding him could not see the world the way he did, could not help it if he was someone best avoided.  The golden rule about freaks and monsters, after all, was that they were made, not born.

And here, in the form of a man with horrible taste of jumpers but a wonderful sense of loyalty, was final proof that there was some shred of decency inside him.  Here was someone who liked to talk to him, who laughed at his jokes, who did not mind his constant deductions but seemed to admire him for them.  Sherlock, as much as he hated to admit it, was much happier under this constant stream of affection and admiration (and more than a little bit of exasperation) than he could ever remember being in his ~~miserable~~ marvelous lifetime. 

So he tries hard not to make a mistake, even if his efforts aren't very noticeable.  He makes sure his containers full of human parts are labeled and gone within a week.  He does his best to tidy up after himself, except for on the days his mind moves to fast for him to do anything that makes any sense and the flat ends up looking like a tornado had ripped through it.  He keeps his most private to his observations to himself- doesn't comment on the nightmares or the stiffness in his shoulder, doesn't say a word when john had a fight with Harry or ran through another girlfriend (though he loves it when the girlfriends leave and is dying to say so), doesn't ask about the clear tension between John and his out of the picture (possibly dead?) father.  He does his best not to show how different his is, not to let John see exactly how detatched he can become.  Miraculously, John stays.

There are times when Sherlock messes up.  When an experiment explodes, when a deduction goes too far, when he can no longer stop himself from hurting others.  And each time when John shouts or storms away, Sherlock is left alone, nicotine patches on his arm and mind on the box hidden under his bed (the one Lystrade hasn't found, the one Mycroft doesn't know about).  After all this time together, there is a part of him that thinks John is going to leave him.

(He will leave.  It is Sherlock's experience that people are the most boring thing of all to observe.  They all have their same horrible habits and betrayals and pesky feelings, same stupid thought processes.  They all leave, and very rarely does an anomaly like John Watson appear in the data.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on Instagram @alwaysscripturient


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